Worth Fighting For
by ficusmarie
Summary: If your life was about to end, you'd want to tell off the Dark Lord too. Discover why the Order does what they do, and see if a lost soldier dies, or is brought home. OC ONE SHOT! Please Review!


The cell in which she found herself in tonight was rather cold. The hard stone rubbed against her bare skin, causing her to shiver slightly. A loud creak was heard, signaling that someone was coming. She had already been succumbed to a day of torture and felt like if she was tortured once more, she might break this time. Every time the whip cracked or the knife cut deep, she felt as if she was ready. Ready to give up. But every time, she closed her eyes and thought of him. Of why she was being treated the way she was, and what she was fighting for. And every time, she felt a surge of courage, as if nothing in the world could stop her. For she had something that few realized just how amazing and powerful it was. She had him, and as long as his face was etched in her memory, in her heart, nothing, nothing stood in her way. She would survive. She had to survive.

As she pressed her face farther into her knees, she heard a cold voice speak, "The Dark Lord wishes to see you." She felt strong hands grasp her shoulder as she was wretched upward and out of the room. She looked at the man who was dragging her. A face she once knew. A face she tried so hard to forget.

"Father," she whispered. "Please, you don't need to do this." She looked into his eyes. It was as if she was looking into her own. She didn't try to look pitiful and she succeeded. She looked strong, inspired, and ready for what she was about to face.

He looked into those eyes and saw his daughter for the first time for who she really was, and he was proud. He gave her a sorry smile. "I have to. He'll kill me," he said, truly sorry.

She looked back at the selfish man before her and remembered how he was. She saw that he still hadn't changed, no matter how badly she had hoped. She did not see the remorse he felt. She was never good at telling what people were thinking when she was tired or sick.

"I understand," she murmured. "It was always about you. It was like that then, and it's still like that now.

He shook his head, "Can't you tell what I'm really thinking. If so, you wouldn't be saying that."

She laughed a cold hard laugh, "You know I can't when I'm put through this. Now take me to your Lord, and go on with your life."

A single tear fell from his face, which he quickly wiped away, so as not to let her see. He pulled her along once more with a few grunts.

They had reached a circular room with a single chair resembling that of a throne, and on that throne sat Lord Voldemort, his red eyes looking exceptionally happy.

"Welcome back," he hissed. "Are you enjoying your stay?"

"Oh yes, the constant torture is a nice touch," she said laughing.

"You will not be so happy once I'm through with you," said Voldemort. He turned to the man. "Leave us."

Reluctantly, the man left and Voldemort turned to her once more. "Do you know why you are here?" he asked, playing with her.

"No, why don't you tell me," she replied, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Well, it might have something to do with that Potter boy," he began.

"Oh yes, I remember now. I stopped your precious servants from killing him, isn't that right. Oh, but which Potter boy do you speak of. For I have much to do with both," she retorted.

"The younger of the two. You protect him as if he was your own, as if you were his mother. You've killed many of my loyal servants. You gather and participate in resistance against me. Have I left anything out?" he sneered.

"No, I think that's about it," she laughed. "And what, pray tell, are you going to do about it?"

"Oh, several things, one of which, you tell me why. Why you fight so hard against me, when I've offered you every thing?"

She stared at him. "Because, I don't want what you offer."

He looked at her and asked, "You'd rather die?"

She continued to stare, as if to emphasize how unafraid she was of what was coming. "You fail to realize, Tom, that there are things, things greater than you and me, that are worth dying for. Things, like the sun in the sky, like a bird flying south, like a flower blooming, like a child growing. Like a smile in the sadness, like a light in the dark, like a kiss in the cold, like a sunset on a hill with the one person you want to spend your entire life with.

"I fight for the young, the old, and the frightened. I fight to make this world a better place. A place where I can raise my family. I fight for my one love. For my friends. For my children. For the world.

"You fail to realize, Tom, that love overpowers all. It gives strength. It gives us hope. Love, Tom, is why I fight so fucking hard. Love is worth dying for and if I need to die to protect those I love, I'll do so readily and I will do so proudly, until my final breath. I only hope that one day, you will understand that you can not be beat. You can't love. You have no hope. You will die and in the scheme of it all, my death will be unimportant, but yours, yours will come by the hand of Harry Potter. And when it does, love will win." Tears filled her eyes, though she refused to let it fall.

He did nothing but laugh, "And you, you are ready to die for this, for what you believe is worth dying for?"

"Yes."

"There is nothing worth dying for you insolent girl," he said coldly.

She smiled a knowing smile, "I'll see you in hell Tom."

He lifted his wand from his side, "Avada Kedavra."

She was ready. She was prepared, and yet, she felt nothing. She didn't feel the jet of light hit her chest, nor herself fall. She looked to see a body in front of her. It was her father. And for once in her life, she now understood.

A wand lay in front of her. Her father's wand. She spun around and held it in her hands. "Incendio," she muttered and the rope binding her hands fell. As she turned to Voldemort with her wand raised, she saw that his wand was pointed at her as well.

He then moved his wand to face the wall and muttered, "Forisio." A door appeared. "You may go," he said. She backed away from him toward the door. Towards her freedom. And just before she disappeared through the portal, Voldemort spoke, "Oh, and tell your friends, I'm coming and none of them are going to survive." The last word came as a hiss.

"That's what you think," she said as she entered the door and disappeared behind it.

She spun around and saw that she was standing in front of Grimmauld place covered in a cold blanket of winter snow. The door to the house in front of her instantly flew open and out ran Sirius Black. He pulled her tightly and kissed her lips.

"Desi, I've been so worried. Where were you?" he asked, not letting go of her.

"Voldemort…" she muttered.

"Oh, Desiree."

The door flew open once more and out ran Remus and Harry to hug Desiree too.

"Where have you been?" asked Remus.

"I'll tell you all about it inside," she said. She looked at Harry, "Shouldn't you be at school, studying for OWLs or getting into trouble?"

"It's Christmas break," he smiled, laughing at her assumption.

"Oh dear, have I missed Christmas?" she asked worriedly.

"No, it's tomorrow, actually. Perfect timing," said Remus.

"Good. Where is everybody else?"

"They're inside waiting for you," said Remus.

"Well now, how about we all go inside for some hot cocoa and listen to Desi's story, eh?" suggested Sirius.

Remus and Harry went inside. Sirius began to follow, when he saw Desiree staying stationary.

He pulled her tightly, "Hey, are you going to be okay?"

She looked at him. She looked at the house. She thought of Remus, Sirius, and Harry. She thought of the Order. She thought of the hot cocoa and the warm fire.

This. This is worth fighting for. But for now, the fighting ceased. She was ready to bask in the happiness and love that was radiating from every direction.

"Yeah. I'm okay," she said moving towards the house. And she was. She really was.


End file.
